


Offering

by riteinthefeels



Series: The Woes of Deceit [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Coercion, Deceit, F/M, Rough Sex, bj, maybe dub-con?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-10
Updated: 2013-06-10
Packaged: 2017-12-14 14:25:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/837894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/riteinthefeels/pseuds/riteinthefeels
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Okay, you first. Why are you here? And how do you think I can benefit you?” She stuffs her face with artificially flavored starch.</p><p>He smiles sweetly, taking a deep breath before starting. “I’m here because I believe I can help you attain something I know you so desperately desire. I have been watching my brother since he arrived on Midgard. The triviality of his activities is stifling, but yesterday I caught sight of you as you spied on his rutting. Your reaction attracted my attention, and I followed you back to this apartment.”</p><p>He smirks; a glint of roguishness crosses his features as he leans forward and murmurs, “I heard you scream his name.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Offering

**Author's Note:**

> Sort of a continuation from [Silvertongue](http://archiveofourown.org/works/806393), this will eventually be a bridge between Silvertongue and an as-yet unwritten story. I definitely suggest you read them in order.

It started as an annoyance: the RV door always left unlocked; forgetting to knock, yet again; soft moans escaping in a subdued melody from the rear of the trailer as Darcy backed out as silently as possible.

Usually, she would climb to the top of the Smith building, sitting on the roof with the ghost of a friend too occupied by the good-looking stranger who had dropped into their lives. The new iPod only did so much to erase the emptiness taking up residence within her chest. Staring off into the unending desert horizon, the flame of jealousy unfurled but couldn’t quite veil the feeling of being watched.

Jane would always emerge eventually, and Darcy would shuffle down to greet her and retrieve a sweater or ask clarification for some blip on their instruments. The dance continued almost every day, Jane and Thor unaware and Darcy increasingly perturbed.

Jealousy morphed annoyance into envy, as often happens in people with extra time and ample imagination.

~*~

Sliding into the giant silver bullet of an RV, Darcy hears the familiar cadence from the bed. She lays a paper readout on the cluttered counter and turns to leave, but can’t help catching a glimpse, although she’s sure they know she’s there. The sight of his brilliantly muscled body laid bare and glowing in the sun stealing through the dusty windows arrests her breath and curls up in her belly. Fluid thrusts command her attention and her hands wander autonomously to press against her thighs.

Hurrying from the trailer, she doesn’t wait for Jane this time. No longer can she stand to see Jane with her hair disheveled and eyes glazed. Darcy walks briskly to her apartment, locking the door and closing the blinds before slipping between the sheets. The heat’s been off all day and the darkness makes her room feel like a tomb, oppressive and insufferable. She reaches down into her pants, teasing ripples along her skin. Like a video on repeat, images of the Nordic giant flash through her mind as she pushes inside herself. She is screaming Thor’s name into her pillow when she comes, and though it’s midday and her neighbors are all at work, she distinctly feels someone’s eyes upon her trembling body.

~*~

Darcy stays home the rest of the day, ignoring the phone when it rings and barely acknowledging when her roommate returns, shedding clothing and books around the living room. She leaves her room only to slink to the kitchen or bathroom, stewing in the dark, obsessing over this crazy homeless person whose very existence swallows her soul.

The next morning, she walks down to Jane’s lab in a daze. Daydreaming about Thor almost gets her hit by a car, and she arrives flustered just in time for the blonde to serve up scrambled eggs and toast and that goofy smile that shines its way right through to her knees.

Jane interrogates her during breakfast. “What happened to you yesterday afternoon? I called your cell, but you didn’t answer. Are you okay?”

“I think I ate something that didn’t agree with me,” Darcy smiles weakly, unable to meet Jane’s gaze. “I’m fine now. And I didn’t hear the phone ring because I was asleep.”

The day passes uneventfully, though she can see Thor and Jane sneaking worried glances her way when they think she isn’t looking. Even Erik seems concerned, but none of them bring her absence up again and she walks home pensively in the evening.

Her roommate has not yet arrived home— _Tuesday, late class, right_ , she remembers. Taking out a pot, Darcy boils water for ramen when she is startled by a soft knock at the door. She’s not exactly the type to have people banging down her door—not exactly popular with her biting sarcasm and frumpy clothing. Through the peephole she can glimpse the warped features of a tall, delicately handsome man with slicked black hair wearing a pea coat and a scarf.

Cautiously, she opens the door, but does not unlatch the chain. Gray-blue eyes peer up at the man. “Can I help you?”

“Hello, Darcy,” his liquid voice wraps around an English accent. “May I come in?”

“Wait. Who are you? How do you know who I am? Are you stalking me?” She fingers the Taser in her jacket pocket as her heartbeat quickens.

He smiles patiently. “I’m not here to harm you. I believe we can be of benefit to each other. Please let me in so we can talk in private.”

“Not so fast, buddy. Answer the questions first.”

“I believe you may know me. My name is Loki.”

Her eyebrows raise, but she does not interrupt.

“I know your name as I know many things—by divination.”

The door closes and the chain is withdrawn. When the door reopens, she is brandishing the Taser in his face. “Consider this your only warning.”

“You are most gracious,” he replies, and she can’t tell if he’s being sarcastic or sincere. He lays his scarf and coat on the arm of the couch, perching on the cushions like an exotic bird.

“You caught me making dinner, so I’m going to eat while we talk, if you don’t mind,” she responds from the kitchen. Loki studies the interior of the small apartment while she seasons the ramen and brings it into the living room, cradling the bowl in one hand.

“Okay, you first. Why are you here? And how do you think I can benefit you?” She stuffs her face with artificially flavored starch.

He smiles sweetly, taking a deep breath before starting. “I’m here because I believe I can help you attain something I know you so desperately desire. I have been watching my brother since he arrived on Midgard. The triviality of his activities is stifling, but yesterday I caught sight of you as you spied on his rutting. Your reaction attracted my attention, and I followed you back to this apartment.”

He smirks; a glint of roguishness crosses his features as he leans forward and murmurs, “I heard you scream his name.”

She begins to protest, outraged at the audacity of the intruder. He ignores her heated expression.

“I’ll assume that Thor has not spoken of me. He’s not one to talk at length on any subject other than himself.” Loki flicks his wrist and conjures a clone. It sits next to him on the couch and mimics his every motion and sound. “I’ve had centuries to perfect my art.” He waves, and the clone dissipates.

“I can get you into Thor’s bed.” The mischievous smile curls across his lips again.

Unconsciously, Darcy leans forward, her jaw agape. Infatuation holds her, a vice-grip she melts into all too eagerly.

“Um, how exactly? And why?”

Loki leans back and loosens his tie. He slowly works down from the top button of his shirt, staring at Darcy to make sure she watches him. By the time he unfastens the fifth button, the upper swell of feminine breasts is peeking out, the garment growing tighter by the second.

“I can easily transfigure you with a slighter build and lighter hair. For all intents and purposes, you could be Jane Foster. On the outside, anyway.

“As for why—let’s just say the mischief in me makes me do it. Of course, Jane and Thor need never know.”

Darcy considers for a few moments, studying the god as he sits before her, a living alabaster statue dressed for the catwalk. Every time she tries to think of a good reason to not let Loki help her, Thor’s grinning face invades her thoughts.

Her eyebrows crinkle in confusion. “Wait… what do you want from me?”

“My dear,” the pale stranger begins, “I never thought you’d ask.

“Tell me, did the book Selvig borrowed to educate you about his homeland’s religious customs explain my insatiable appetite? No? It was my understanding this particular bit of lore had made its way even to Midgard, but perhaps that book is a bit abridged. A thousand years does little to dampen one’s lust when there are so many exotic and uncommon creatures to ignite it.”

He glides behind Darcy’s chair to massage her shoulders, and she can’t help but notice the immense bulge in his designer slacks as he passes. His touch, sensual and delicate, sings of a sinewy, otherworldly strength.

Bending down to her ear, Loki whispers, “And no two are the same. That’s the beauty of it.”

Darcy turns to tell the statuesque man that she’s not sure she can hold up her end of the deal, then their eyes lock and she loses herself in a sea of emerald green, floating aimlessly among the flotsam of a life lived for another, helpless against the behemoth lurking in the shadows.

She thinks, briefly, that it’s not exactly a spell, being allowed to see straight into someone else’s soul, centuries falling away like the dried leaves of a yucca husk. It’s more like a privilege, one she shouldn’t waste. She feels sorry for this immortal being, and it’s this sympathy more than anything that has her on her knees before him, nails dragging across his pants as if they contain the secrets of the universe.

Pulling frantically at his belt, fingers slipping and trembling, she’s startled by his hand on her shoulder.

“Easy,” he coos, sitting in the recently vacated chair. “Breathe.”

Glassy eyes stare back from worlds away, desperate, hungry need dilating her pupils. She closes her eyes and breathes deep, undoing the zipper and button by touch. When her eyelids roll back, she’s inches away from his glorious cock, half-erect and already dwarfing her last boyfriend’s package. Gazing up at him, she flicks the tip with her tongue and grins as his careful façade falters.

Stubby fingernails follow the fabric ripples across his thighs to hook under the waistband and slide it down to pool at his ankles. Scratching lightly at the skin of Loki’s ass and thighs, Darcy swirls imaginary patterns as her hands migrate back around front. She cups his balls, teasingly stroking them as her head dips down to plant kisses along his legs from the knee up.

The kisses turn into soft bites as Loki shifts in his seat, brown locks sweeping across his skin in soft waves. He closes his eyes and leans back, gasping as she bites high up on his thigh before licking up the underside of his throbbing shaft. One eye cracks open just in time to see her peel back the skin and slowly envelope his head in wet warmth, her teeth lightly grazing the frenulum when he jumps. She pushes towards the base, tongue roving over veins and taking in the earthy flavors of his skin.

Pale, angular fingers reach down into Darcy’s hair, stroking and twisting gently as his jaw slacks slightly open. The brunette picks up a rhythm, digits of one hand wrapped around his cock as she bobs on the tip. She sucks lightly every time she withdraws, pulling hushed sighs from his lips. He moves to the edge of the chair, forcing her back to sit on her feet. The hand fists close to her scalp as his hips thrust against her mouth, the jagged pressure of her teeth sending jolts of pleasure up his spine. He grunts audibly, bucking as he comes.

The girl chokes and sputters as Loki’s body collapses into the jade velvet of the chair. He releases his grip on her hair and catches her chin between his fingers, tilting it up to face him. He examines her features, moving her head this way and that as a green mist flows from his fingertips. Her gaze is held through slitted green orbs as the restructuring commences.

Somewhere, she faintly hears the pop and crack of bones taking on new form, feels her skin tighten around a figure that suddenly seems too small for her to fit inside. The hunger has not sated; it has only increased with Loki’s guttural moans and power play, becoming a ravenous beast with the blended taste of blood and semen on her tongue.

She tries to climb onto his lap, but he stands, pushing her off with a brusque, “You’re wasting time. The spell won’t last forever.”

Darcy glances down at her considerably flatter chest and narrower hips, clothing now hanging off of her. Rushing into her bedroom to change, she sifts frantically through piles of clothing for the jacket and pants Jane had left earlier in the semester. Darcy had washed them and promptly thrown them in a corner, constantly forgetting to bring them back. She pulls the worn plaid over her shirt and slips into the jeans, buttoning them as she walks back into an empty living room.

Feeling a little debased, she grabs her keys and coat and strides into the night. The chill of the desert sweeps along her hands and face as she reaches the deserted building. There’s a note with Jane’s spidery handwriting on the counter—“Went out to recheck data, back later.” Another note in bold, near illegible scrawl lies under it—“Drinking with Thor. Don’t worry about us.” Both notes are crumpled into her pocket as Darcy mixes hot chocolate for herself and sits in the dark, praying that Thor returns before Jane.

Minutes later, the giant blonde bursts through the double glass doors, holding up a very drunk Erik Selvig. Darcy greets them as Thor lays Erik on the couch, avoiding his touch for fear she won’t be able to stop touching him.

“Thor, can I speak to you in private?” she squeaks.

She doesn’t wait for an answer, instead pulling at his shirt sleeve until they are inside the silver bullet RV. The door locked, she turns to the beautiful stranger, peeling away his clothing with gusto and practically climbing his body to crush her lips to his. Trembling, she sucks and bites at his mouth as if it is the only way to sustain her life. Thor breaks the kiss to strip her jacket and shirt, then stops and steps back.

“Jane, what’s wrong? You’re shaking,” his deep tenor fills the trailer.

Darcy panics momentarily. “I… I just… I need you so bad,” she whispers.

A fond smile graces his lips and he pulls her toward him, picking her up and carrying her over to the bed. He lays her down gently, elbows planted to either side as he leans down to kiss her, playfully pulling at her lip. His kisses wander down her neck and collarbone as he reaches across her back to unsnap her bra, pulling it off and flinging it behind him. Her skin is on fire and embers bloom wherever he touches her, blazing a trail like an invisible chain between her nipples before dipping down her ribs and across her stomach.

Backing off the bed, her pants end up in the same pile as the rest of their clothing before Thor slides off his own jeans, releasing his growing erection with a sigh. Darcy’s eyes widen; _I can see the family resemblance,_ she smirks to herself. He shakes off the clothing, his cock bobbing in the moonlight as he bends to gently massage Darcy’s feet. He kisses her big toe, then takes it in his mouth, swirling his tongue around it and dragging his teeth across the nail.

The intern resists the urge to shudder. _Well, that’s a little weird, but I guess that’s what Jane’s into._

The blonde god continues up her legs, alternating kissing with licking and sucking until he reaches the edge of her panties. He pulls them off with his teeth, burying his face between her thighs and slowly licking along her labia. Spreading her with his fingers, his lips wrap around her clitoris and he sucks, his tongue swirling around until she is breathlessly grabbing at the sheets and keening.

He pushes two fingers into her as he glides up the mattress, her legs propped up. His fingers curl against her g-spot as he prepares to enter her; she writhes against his head and he pushes in. Shivering fingers claw down his back and her heels lock over his butt as he pounds against her, lips to her forehead.

Her teeth release her lower lip long enough for a mumbled, “I want to ride you,” and he rolls over, strong hands catching her sides to keep their bodies connected.

Darcy bounces along his shaft, hips snapping to an internal tempo as her orgasm builds. His hands reach up to fondle her breasts and she lodges her palms against Thor’s hard chest as her walls pulsate around him, climax ripping screams from her enough to rival a professional. She slumps slightly against his body while he rocks into her and twists to lay her on her back.

“No,” her voice oozes thick with satiety, “Get behind me.”

Thor’s head cocks momentarily before he crawls out from beneath her and pulls her hips toward the edge of the bed, standing against her and rubbing his member along her crack as if asking permission.

“Do it.”

He plunges into her again, straining hard to hold back against the sensation of being engulfed in her tightness. The boilermakers he had with Erik have turned a normal endeavor into a Herculean effort. His hands roam to cup her breasts as she lays sprawled on her shoulders and face with hips held high. Still panting and moaning, she pushes back against him, meeting each advance with a satisfying smack.

“Harder!” she gasps, arousal flaring anew across her nerves.

Succumbing to alcohol and the commands of his mistress, Thor pitches into Darcy with abandon. Calloused fingers drag over her skin to steady himself on her hip bones, pulling her closer and closer still, until they are both coming, grunting and wailing with a cacophony to wake the dead. He trails a finger along her spine as he starts going soft, drunk on endorphins and Midgardian ale. She falls to the side as the blonde pulls out, twisting over to look up at him.

“We should do that again,” she giggles, playfully feeling up his thigh with her foot.

“We shall,” Thor replies, “but in the morning. Tonight I am far too weak to do anything but sleep.”

He crawls onto the bed beside her, smoothing hair away from her face as she smiles dreamily.

Loki hadn’t given Darcy a time limit, and a feeling of dread suddenly pools in the pit of her stomach. She sits upright and reaches for the light switch, blinking and squinting at the piles of clothes. She moves to rise, and Thor catches her by the arm.

“Where are you going?”

“Oh, uh,” she stammers, “I just remembered I need to recheck some data. I won’t be gone long.”

Smiling, she turns to fish her clothing out of the heap and pulls it on hurriedly. She flicks the light switch again, shuffling out the door and back to her apartment.

~*~

The next morning, Jane and Thor are squabbling as Darcy stumbles into the lab. She can pick up bits and pieces, and smirks to herself as she realizes that Jane is upset about Thor wanting to try new positions in bed. Her coat and half-drunk mug of hot chocolate are where she left them, and she can’t quite look at Thor without feeling tingly and hot between her legs. She settles for stealing glances at him from the corner of her eye.

As she nears the sink to dump out her mug, Thor stiffens, noticing the slight limp she has acquired in the course of the night. He glares at her, understanding plain upon his face, before stalking outside.

“What was _that_ about?” Jane murmurs from Darcy’s shoulder.

“Beats me,” Darcy responds.


End file.
